Finding Anna
by ATravelerWhoHatesToSayGoodbye
Summary: What if Mary had gotten pregnant with Marks baby while they were still married? My first In Plain Sigh fic. Well... my first fic ever, in general! Please review! I do not own anything In Plain Sight.
1. Chapter 1

WILEY

"Anna Wiley Stuber?"

"It's just Wiley."

Wiley heard the other girls giggle at the mention of her first name. This had happened every first day of school she'd ever had, every year, for nine years. And for week or so, this new teacher would continue to call her Anna, only to be corrected every time. "It takes me a couple weeks, people! I'll get there; I just have a lot of students." _Is there a teacher's hand book that has this phrase in it? It's like every teacher gets together and rehearses stupid teacher phrases like that and, like, "Don't you mean '_may_ you go to the bathroom?'"_ Wiley didn't know why things like this pissed her off, they just did. She mused on what it was that made her so surly until the bell rang. Being raised by her father you'd think she'd be very docile, very Zen. Mark Stuber was playful and fun, never took anything too seriously. He was carefree. Wiley had inherited no such trait. She was very no-bullshit, straight to business and sarcastic. Even her grandparents, whose house was her second home, were mild, not fiery, like her. But she was funny and sweet and kind, when she wanted to be. She often wondered where she got it from.

MARY

The flight had been long. Albuquerque to New Jersey was a trip that always made Mary think. About her past, her choices, the future, everything. She thought about Brandi and Jinx, their successes and failures, strides and setbacks. How they went from leaning on her completely, pushing her down with their full weight to treading water on their own, keeping their noses and mouths beyond the surface alone. She thought about her daughter. About her ex-husband. Getting married and divorced all in a course of three months in the seventeenth year of your life is stressful. Finding out you're pregnant, even more so. They had been lucky though, her and Mark. His parents understood, despite their disappointment, and willingly agreed to provide for their son's unexpected daughter. Mary would agree to their terms, leaving her baby in the Stuber's care, to insure a brighter future then that of repeating her mother's destructive cycle. She'd graduate high school; move on to college and advance, eventually, to a high ranking law enforcement position. While it took some convincing, Jinx and Brandi had respected Mary's wishes, keeping a minimal involvement in her child's life. They knew where they were was no place for a child, or even for them. They were present at the proper events; all three of the Shannon women, until Wiley was 4 and Mary left Jersey with Jinx and Brandi following after her. Even then, Mary's encounters with the child were brief, awkward and tense. Her daughter would grow up without her. It was the plan and they had stuck to it for fifteen years. If someone asked what it was that made her suddenly board a plane to New Jersey to visit her estranged daughter, Mary could not provide a straight answer. Mainly because it was probably none of their business but also because she just did not know. Maybe it was her unending curiosity or her need to take care of those her around that had finally done her in. Maybe it was the countless families she helped to rebuild every day that made her wonder about her own. Or maybe it was the simple fact that something was missing. Someone. She had Raph. She had Marshall. A great, good-looking boyfriend, an even better best friend. She had a fulfilling job she loved and her hands full with her newly-sober mother, a time bomb in Mary's eyes, and scatter brained sister. And yet she still felt a void.

WILEY

"Just open, sweet Jesus!" Wiley screamed, bringing her fist down on her locker.

"What seems to be the trouble here, ma'am?" Wiley looked up to see what asshole was getting in her face now. Her expression softened when she saw Maddy. She should have known. With the exception of her best friend, who she met in the 3rd grade, when he asked her to be on his team during a game of playground kickball, people didn't usually talk to Wiley. She was private and stand-offish most days and when she wasn't, she was biting and witty. People didn't take well to this. By the way, she totally won that game of kickball for the team. No, people didn't take well to Anna Wiley Shannon. Except for Maddy. "Public school lockers! That's the trouble!"

"Did you do the combination right?" She threw her best friend a what-the-fuck-do-you-think look before turning her attention back the culprit. "36, 32, 17! I'm right! It's the locker that's having issues. Not me."

"You aren't doing a full circle."

"What?" Wiley hissed.

"You do '36', '32', full circle '17.' You forget every year." The door swung open and a goofy grin spread on Maddy's face.

"I'll kill you."

"Dually noted," he said, lifting her bag out of the locker and onto her shoulder. He knew better than to try and carry for her.

As they headed out to where their parents would meet them to bring them home, past the cool seniors and juniors who would be driving themselves and the kids moseying to detention, they discussed everything, like always. Wiley bitched about the soccer practice she'd had earlier that morning and how the coached had sentenced the entire team to 40 suicide drills to make up for last week's loss. Maddy told her about his developments in getting Kristy Machullan to notice him during 3rd period Spanish. "She asked for a pencil and I gave her one and I tried to be smooth and say 'you're welcome' in Spanish but then I got nervous said it before she said thank you so I just seemed like a total dick." Wiley laughed at her sweet, sweet friend while wondering if Mark would forget to pick her up again. "Oh, Mads, I wouldn't sweat it. She's not even that great."

"Wiley, you can't not like someone because of how they spell their name!"

"Who spells 'Christy' with a 'K', Maddy? I mean really! It's ridiculous and to be honest, it makes her seem like a real tool." Maddy smiled at his stubborn friend.

"So, plans for tonight?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Well, I want to stay close to home in case Mark needs something, which he will." She said, for the umpteenth time. "But if you want to come over later we can watch Dog the B-"

"No, Wiley!"

"Fine. You can pick what we watch." She agreed bitterly, knowing she had picked the last three times and he hadn't even fought her. They usually had a rotation, I go, you go, I go and so on. But it didn't really matter because no matter what was happening on the screen they always had their attention turned on each other. "But no Jane Austen movies, Madeline."

"Fine." He laughed. "Hey, who's that blonde lady leaning on your dad's car with him?" Wiley followed her friends gaze, expecting to see another new girlfriend, shallow and transient, until her eyes stopped on the subject at hand. She had seen her before, in pictures, distance, blurry memories and stories. But she had never been more than that. Never been more than a phone call, a post card, an email. A memory. It was her mom.

MARY

Mark was late picking her up, of course. But for some reason she didn't mind. A part of her wanted this wait outside of the airport to last forever, the desperate cabbies and frantic travelers amongst the smog and exhaust. To avoid what was to come in these next few days. When her Ex finally showed, a wave of nostalgia and regret washed over her. He still drove a beat up Chevy pick-up and he still drove it like he stole it. There was only one, subtle difference. It was small and the only other person that would've noticed it would be Marshall. It was a bumper sticker, small and silver, in the form of a girl kicking a soccer ball with the words 'Proud Parent of a Varsity Soccer Player' printed beneath. She felt pride, for a second and then instantly scolded herself. _You had nothing to do with that, Mary Shannon. You were not there. Not for a single try-out, practice or game. _

"Hey there!" Mark called, as he jumped out of the red truck (after jamming it into park with much difficulty), smiling. After a long hug that Mary hated, Mark grabbed her bags, despite her protest, and threw them in the back of his truck with a thud. "Ready to go?" Mary nodded but didn't move right away. She took him in, how he was now. He had bald slightly, on the top of his head; he still had the eyes and mannerisms of the 22 year old man she'd married fifteen years ago. "You look just the same." She breathed. She hadn't meant it romantically. It scared her. It meant that he hadn't changed, that he raised their daughter recklessly, like he'd done everything else. She hoped she was wrong, but she usually never was. "Aw, thanks Mary! You don't look so bad yourself." He said, breaking her from her thoughts, a playful smile on his lips. "Shut it and let's go." They loaded into the truck and drove off, leaving the travelers, the smog. "I hope you don't mind, we have to go pick up Wiley from school." Mary froze in terror. She knew it was why she came here, to know her daughter but she hadn't expected it to be so rushed. She couldn't do this. Not now. Everything in her body was telling her to run. _What are you going to do? Toss yourself out the door of this moving jalopy? _Mary seriously considered this option. _No. You will not run. Not again. You have to do this for you. For Wiley. _"Wait. Wiley?"

"She doesn't let anyone call her Anna. Ever since she was five." Mark laughed. Mary stared at her hands, mouth open. Every letter, email and phone call she had called her daughter Anna and she never protested. Why hadn't she corrected her? Why did she even want to be called Wiley? Mark sensed her confusion. "She's just not an Anna. You'll understand when you meet her."

"I've met her before." Mary said defensively. The words left her mouth without permission.

"No- no I know. It wasn't what I meant." He back-peddled. For the rest of the ride Mary was quiet, half listening to Mark's ramblings about his newest business venture or crazy night out. Mostly she was thinking. Thinking about Anna. Thinking about Wiley.

They pulled up to the school. Mary saw her instantly. She saw her through the seniors and juniors, the jocks and the nerds, the teachers and hall monitors. She wore a big gray t-shirt with a black silhouette of Marilyn Monroe that hung on her skinny frame. Her wrists were bare except for a single chain with a pendant hanging from it. Mary knew that too, instantly. It was a gift from Jinx, given through tears upon the thought of losing her first grandchild to another family, the day she was born. Mary wore the same one around her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to forget her mistakes, her guilt. _I did what was needed. The Shannons are no good._ Under her t-shirt, Wiley's legs, muscled from years of soccer, were clad with black leggings. Her shoes were converse knock-offs, maroon, with dirty laces. Her hair was her fathers, chestnut brown and down to her waist in delicate waves. But her eyes, Mary saw, even from her distance, were Shannon. Green, fierce and curious. Sad. She saw her daughter's body tense at the sight of her and felt her own body do the same.

The drive home had been the oddest thing Wiley had ever experience. After awkward introductions and small talk the family-of-sorts loaded into the car and headed home. Mark rambled on about how Mary came to visit for a little and that they would all have a lot of fun together. As if her arrival was random or strange but routine and expected. Wiley sat, lost in thought. Mary sat, lost in thought.

_I cannot believe she's here._

_I cannot believe I'm here._

_What is she doing here?_

_What am I doing here? _

_What does she think? That she'll show up and we'll insta-bond and be the best of friends? Like, does she think this is the beginning of a Gilmore Girls episode?_

_What did I even think? That we'd frolic around like those Gilmore Girls and forget that I gave her up, fifteen years ago?_

_This is-_

_-a mistake._


	2. Chapter 2

MARY

The house was small. Small would be an understatement actually. It was microscopic.

"It's not much but its home!" Mark had bellowed as he slipped the key in the door and swung it open to reveal a house decorate with homemade crafts and A+ papers and tests.

Yeah, no kidding. I've put witnesses in nicer digs than this. Mary thought. It looked like an old doll house, cluttered and tired, filled with misplaced cabinets and drawers that a child had absent mindedly tossed in before being distracted by another toy. Mary looked around the one floor, two bedroom and tried to imagine her daughter growing up there; reaching on her tip toes to watch her dad cook one of his "special recipes", coloring on the living room coffee table, placing her tooth under her pillow before dozing off to dream of fairies and coins. Something was tugging at her. Guilt, maybe. Guilt. Definitely guilt. Guilt that Wiley had never swam in her pool or played computer games in her office in the chair that spins and lifts and sinks with the pull of a little black lever. She glanced at her daughter; she also appeared to be taking in the house, as if she hadn't seen it every day for 15 or so years. Mary saw flecks of everyone; Brandi's frame, small and wiry but tough. Jinx's lips, set and stubborn. Her own eyes. Tragic and lost. There was someone else in there, too. Someone Mary couldn't place. Obviously Mark was there but... there was another person, ghost-like and mysterious.

WILEY

She hated this. The last thing she wanted was for this woman to see her home. The whole car ride there she had seriously considered tucking and rolling out the door on to the side of the road. She always felt jittery when she had to show someone her home; her mother, this stranger, was no exception. She knew it was small and crowded. But it was her home and she did what she could to keep it in shape. Mark was a good dad, he made her laugh and tried to keep her happy but Wiley learned from an early age that her father would need help. So she did all she could. This lady is like, a Supreme Court Judge or something; I bet her house is gorgeous. All sliding glass doors and Mexican tiles. Wiley caught herself staring at this mystery woman. The fact that she knew nothing about her but could still see the similarities between them made her stomach ache. She quickly looked away.

She hadn't even noticed her father had taken a call. "Oh- oh yeah, no I understand. Definitely. Uh- No, no, I could come in now! " Mark was gathering up his keys and jacket. "I'll be there in a jiff!"

A jiff, dad? Really? …Wait, what! "You're leaving?" Wiley's voice had seemed strange to her until she realized that Mary had asked the same question at the same time, the same look of terror in her eyes.

"Yeah! They need me at the garage, chickie! I'm sorry! I'll only be a minute, just some forms to fill out! Why don't you and Mary hang out here and catch up? I'll be back in time to take you to Grandma and Grandpa's for dinner tonight."

"What?" Mary spat.

"Did I not tell you? Yeah, my parents heard you were coming into town so they asked us over! I said you'd love to."


	3. Chapter 3

MARY

_I could kill you, Mark Stuber._

The women waved goodbye to their buffer as he left the doll house. They stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, hoping Mark would bust back in and say he was just kidding, a goofy grin playing on his face. _Preferably with doughnuts,_ Mary mused. _This new beginning stuff has got me starved._

"I guess we could go to Java Joes."

"Huh?" Mary turned to face Wiley.

"It's, like, this Coffee shop down the street. We could, I do know… get…coffee."

"Yeah… yeah I know it. I used to go there when I was your age." Mary thought back to the days when she'd get on her bike, sometimes with Brandi, peddling furiously to keep up, and head to the coffee shop on the corner of Beek and Warren. She liked to sit on the stools that faced the windows and sip hot chocolate (her taste for coffee came later), regardless of the weather, and dream of leaving New Jersey to travel the world. Travel the world with her father.

"Oh. Ok, cool then. Should we…"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Let's go."

And the two Shannon women walked out into the muggy New Jersey air. They headed south, towards Java Joes in silence, secretly daring one another to speak.

_Alright, I'm the grown-up. I'll start. _She hated starting. Marshall was better at this stuff. _What stuff? Relating to your own kid? Grow a pair, Shannon. _Mary cleared her throat. Wiley's head darted up from her shoes, her eyes expectant.

"So. Soccer." _Really, Mary. That's all I could think of?_

"Uh, yeah. I've been playing for a while. Since sixth grade."

And so it began, the steady flow of small talk. One five minute walk and two cups of coffee later Mary would learn that Wiley was the only middle-schooler to play for the high school junior varsity team and then the only freshman to make the cut to varsity and Wiley would learn a little more about her grandma and aunt and Albuquerque living.

"You married?" Wiley had already noticed the bare finger but thought she saw a slight tan line where a ring should be.

"No. Yes! Well, kind of. I kind of am. Engaged." Mary thought back to that awkward night where she told Raph she just wasn't ready for that. She knew he constant flip-flopping wasn't fair. She just couldn't bite the bullet.

"Kind of engaged? Is that like… being betrothed or what?" Mary laughed at the question. Before she knew it, the typical, vague adult response had escaped her lips as she sipped her coffee. _It's complicated._ The phrase seemed to echo between the two. "How? Explain."

"I just… wasn't ready to marry him. Marrying someone is a big decision. I'm not going to rush into it again-"

"Like you did with my dad." It wasn't a question. Wiley wasn't naïve. She knew her parents did not tie the knot because they were madly in love. Their union was an act of defiance, fueled by teenage hormones and a premature need to be grown-up.

The silence drowned out the whirr of the espresso machines, the chatter of the other patrons and the honking of the Jersey drivers outside. _Choose your next words carefully, Shannon. _"Uh… well…" _Uh, well what? God, I am a real douche. _

"It's fine. I didn't mean to make you feel all… weird. I was just making an example. Its not like I have a Parent Trap fantasy playing in my head. People get married, people have kids, they break-up. Look at Kimmy K."

"Who? The chick with the huge ass and the sex tape?" _Watch the content, Mary. _

Wiley laughed, "Yeah, her. Just got engaged and had a wedding for the glamour."

"No it wasn't that."

"So, what? You love someone else or something?" _Damn, this kid needs to know everything._ Why did that question bring thoughts of Marshall into her head? Mary wasn't stupid or blind or dumb. She saw how Marshall acted around her, she knew he loved her. And she knew all too well the feeling that rose in her stomach when he entered a room or even just called. She also knew how toxic she was for this perfect man and how she refused to poison him with her drama, fears and baggage. She watched as the young girl's eyes darted about, as if she was searching for an answer somewhere in Mary's face. Something about her desperate eyes made her want to confess.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do love someone else. A little. I guess." Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup.

"Well," Wiley sighed, "I guess that shit is pretty complicated, huh?"


End file.
